


Strike

by ifIsayIneedyouxx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Danger, Fluff, Language, M/M, OT5 Friendship, Other, unwanted advancement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifIsayIneedyouxx/pseuds/ifIsayIneedyouxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys are interviewed individually and Louis is nervous as fuck. The interviewer keeps giving off the worst vibes and Louis just wants to get things done and over with before something else happens without any help from the others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strike

**Author's Note:**

> There's unwanted touching in this. That's all. I didn't take it to anything else.

“What sort of questions did he ask?” Louis rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans as he searched Zayns face for some form of reassurance.

Zayn had been in a separate room across from the one they’d been put in, for a little over an hour, being interviewed for some popular entertainment magazine.

It was no Rolling Stone but they had been told by someone from Management that it was important they cooperate and give polite, mature, squeaky clean boy group type answers. The kind of answers that make girls swoon, and want to spend more of their allowance on posters with their faces plastered on them.

Liam hated when they were pushed to do these things. All the boys agreed that what they said in interviews, and how they acted shouldn’t be apart of how high T-shirt sales are. That they were doing what they loved for the fans, not for how many more inanimate objects could have Harrys face painted with the British flag on them.

The conference room was silent as Zayn walked over and sat down in a chair beside Louis. Turning it so he could face him and place his hands over Louis’ to stop them from rubbing holes into his jeans.

“Lou, it’s fine. I don’t understand what you’re getting yourself so worked up about.”

Louis just sniffed away his nerves, inhaling a deep breath to push them back down into his stomach, as he studied the way Zayns hands were wrapped around his.

“No, you’re right. It’s not like the person’s gonna bite me right? I’ll just say what I always say, crack a joke. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, especially Harrys, who was currently stretched out on a couch. Thankfully with a view of his back and not of his current sweaty, pale complexion.

He didn’t want Harry to worry, he was 22 years old and he has been doing interviews for three years now. They weren’t always individual. He’s done only a handful of those compared to the hundreds, or maybe thousands of interviews they’ve done as a group.

But he wasn’t sure if being cornered in the loo by himself, or in a hotel lobby could be counted into that handful of individual interviews.

He’d gotten so used to having Harry to speak up and answer the questions that he couldn’t. Or Niall even, who was just too adorable for his own good, that a cheeky comment from him would deviate the interviewer’s attention off of Louis almost immediately.

Three years of interviews you think you’d be a pro by now at doing it without the training wheels. But no, Louis loved the training wheels and today was not the day to take them off.

“He just asked the normal questions Louis. Like, what’s my favorite track off the new album. What should the fans expect for the next year. What I do on my time off. Easy questions.” Liam was in full daddy mode, and it helped bring his breathing back to a somewhat normal pace.

He knew Zayn and Liam were sharing concerned looks across the table they’d been sitting at. Waiting for their names to be called one by one, like taking exams at Uni, except none of them have ever been, but Louis was assuming this was what was like.

Niall just stayed silent tapping away on his phone. Which was rare because after the amount of silence that was beginning to fill the room, he would usually be squirming just to yell something, anything.

Louis snapped his head up when the sound of a door opening warned them all that it was Louis’ turn. And Harry’s hand was automatically on his shoulder, almost as if he was holding him down in his chair. Not that he had to because Louis had no intention of getting up anytime soon. He wasn’t even sure he could feel his legs at this point.

The assistant that had been calling their names for the past three hours stood in the door frame. Her lips forming a thin line, clearly unamused or interested at all in any of them.

“Last interview, you know whose turn it is. Room across from us, answer the questions, and then maybe we’ll do a few promotional photos. And your day is done and we can all go home.”

Harrys lips were at Louis’ ear in an instant, his warm breath sending shivers down his spine at the contact.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to Lou. No one’s forcing you babes. It’s just some magazine, and management can give them made up answers if you want to back out. No one will know the difference. I don’t want you to do something that makes you feel uncomfortable. None of us want that.”

He could feel Zayn tighten the hold he had around his hands in agreement, as Harry whispered to him.

“I said I’m fine.” Louis cursed his own emotions for not making his voice sound as convincing as he tried to make it. Cracking right at the moment he said the word “fine.”

“He’s said he’s fine like seven times now.”

“Shut it Niall, it’s not the right time for that.”

“You know what fine stands for right?”

“Don’t quote it.”

“Freaked out, insecure, neurotic, and emotiona-ow! What was that for?” Liam shushed Niall with hard a punch to the arm.

Louis got up then, knowing that he couldn’t stall the inevitable any longer. Choosing to not make eye contact with anyone, as he walked to the door. He had this in the bag, he wouldn’t put his foot in his mouth. He would say every textbook answer that he knew.

Stepping out into the hall, shuffling his Vans on the floor to prolong his time in front of the door with a sign taped to it that read, “interview in progress, keep door closed.”

Flinching only a little when the door to the conference room shut behind him, and the assistant woman turned and was practically breathing down his neck. Tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for him to make a move into the opposite room.

“Do you need me to help usher you into the room Mr. Tomlinson?”

Lord this woman needed to get laid or something, Louis just turned and gave her his most winning smile, “I’ve got this thank you.”

Pretending he didn’t hear her mutter “clearly,” under her breath as she walked away. Louis entered the room to what he’d been expecting. A table, two chairs, a recording device sitting in the center, all typical interview things that were very familiar to him. The interviewer brought him up short though. He couldn’t remember if Zayn, or Harry, or any of the boys had mentioned that the interviewer was a guy. And not your typical interviewer type guy.

He was definitely built, looked heavy set but it could also just be muscle, and he had a hell of a strong handshake. “Louis Tomlinson, pull up a chair, get comfortable. You can call me Thatch, or Thatcher.”

There was something off about the guys demeanor, the way he spoke and held onto the handshake a little longer than normal. Louis couldn’t pinpoint it but something didn’t feel right. He shook it off though, blamed the uncomfortable atmosphere on his nerves rather than the interviewer. Louis forgot the guys name the moment it reached his ears, a rude habit he’d developed but it didn’t matter to him much. Although his mum would always give him crap for it, she’d scold him if she could read his thoughts right now.

He could almost imagine her voice ringing in his head, “it’s rude to forget someones name, especially if they’ve taken the time to introduce themselves to you. You’re just as intimidating as those gossip column sharks out there boo. At least try to remember their names.”

The chairs were a little close, their knees bumping making Louis cringe a little, internally. But smiling politely through his discomfort he scooted his chair back a bit. Clearing his throat, Louis began to drum his fingers on the table in anticipation of what he was about to be asked.

“So, Louis, can I call you Louis? Do you prefer Mr. Tomlinson?”

That was an easy question to start with, hopefully they’d all turn out that way. “Louis is good, yeah.”

“Oops, better turn this on then. Almost forgot.” The interviewer reached over and switched the recording device on, the little red light glowing, eager and ready to catch every word the fell from Louis’ lips. His knees bumping Louis’ a second time as he leaned forward in his seat.

That had to have been just coincidence. Louis wasn’t one to judge someone based off of how many times they touched him. Fans would always do anything to touch him, so how was this any different. He just shrugged it off and discreetly scooted his chair a centimeter or two back again.

“Right, Louis, Mr. Big Shot, the double edged sword, sass masta from Doncast-”

“Just Louis is fine thanks.” Shit, he shouldn’t have interrupted, Louis clamped his mouth shut then. Shooting an apologizing look to the interviewer for his rudeness. Glad that there wasn’t a video camera recording him too. “Excuse me, sorry.”

“Not big on the added nicknames I see.”

“M’no it’s not that.”

There was an awkward pause now, the first of many if Louis carried on like this. His hands were beginning to get clammy, curling them into fists as if that would hold it off for longer.

“I called you the double edged sword for a reason. You’re like a triple threat in the group, performer, songwriter for your new album, and now footie player. The other boys are practically nothing without you then eh?”

“What? No, I mean well yes I can do all those things. But no, I don’t see it like that. The boys-”

Louis broke off what he was saying for a second, because the mans hand had moved to lay on the table next to his fist just now. It wasn’t touching him, but it could be if he moved his hand any closer.

“Um, the-the boys are all just as talented. If, uh, if not more?” He was beginning to feel a little jumpy, fidgeting in his seat Louis moved his hand off of the table to rub the back of his neck. Glancing at the closed door for a moment, trying to look at anything else but the mans dark brown eyes. Not warm like Zayns or Liams. There was definitely something wrong with this guy, Louis couldn’t just be imagining things. It was like the interviewer kept getting closer to him, leaning in every other second.

“Next question?”

“Mmm you are definitely my favorite member of the group. The others weren’t as appealing as you, physically.”

“Sorry? I don’t think that-can you ask the next question please?” Louis’ heart jumped to his throat, beating loudly in his ears. His breath catching, not out of pleasure for being complimented, because in no way was that an appropriate compliment. He wasn’t even sure if it was a compliment, or a joke. Either way things were getting out of control. And he could only hope that the interviewer would stop advancing on him, looking at him like he was a piece of meat, and continue professionally with the interview.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s my turn to apologize for appreciating an attractive appearance such as yours out loud. Anyways, your relationship with the boys is a strong one then?”

“Erm, yes. Three years in a group, a tight bond tends to eventually happen.” Louis shifted in his seat as the man barked out a laugh, like what he’d just said was the funniest thing ever.

“I see why they call you the sass master. You’re rough around the edges, I like that.”

“Thanks. I can hold my own I guess.”

“I’m sure you can.”

Louis’ eyes followed the mans hand as it moved from the table, almost as if it was happening in slow motion. And then it was squeezing his knee, the mans thumb rubbing small circles on his leg. Moving closer into his breathing space as his hand moved further up Louis’ thigh.

Louis shot straight up out of his seat then, like he’d been electrocuted. And it felt like he had, but not in the nice way like when Harry touches him. In the bad way, like his body was telling him this guy wasn’t safe. “W-what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s the matter?” The man moved in front of the door as he stood from his seat. Like he sensed or maybe could see Louis’ eyes dart to the door then back to him, that Louis was trying to make a run for it. “Don’t be scared.”

Louis was trapped and all he could do was back up until there was nothing but a wall behind him. Failing to put any distance between himself and the man, panicking, he thought maybe he could yell, he knew he couldn’t fight back. He was strong but not that strong, compared to this guy. “Stay the hell away from me. I’ll-I’ll scre-”

“What? You’ll scream? Is that the only threat you’ve got for me?” And then there was no space between them. And all Louis could do was whimper uncontrollably as the mans rough hand pushed his fringe from his eyes, and stroked his cheeks. Pressing himself up against Louis, pushing him harder into the wall making him wince.

Louis could feel hot tears beginning to form, he was afraid, and terrified that if he screamed now it would only make things worse. “Please, d-don’t-” his voice wavered as the tears began to fall.

“Don’t what? You don’t like it when someone shows you affection? How rude. Should I just be rough instead?”

At the word “rough,” the man wrapped his hands tightly around Louis’ wrists and slammed them up against the wall on either side of his head. Louis cried out at that, hoping it was loud enough to be heard through the door. “Ah, that hurts!”

And then a surge of energy to protect himself kicked in, and Louis began to struggle against the mans hold. Even if it killed his wrists with every twist and turn and kick he had in him. Knowing they would bruise. But it only gained him a dark laugh in his ear, and the stench of stale cigarette smoke, and a horrible smell of body odor clouding his senses making him gag.

“I don’t want to hurt you, so I’d like it if you would stop trying to knee me in the cock and hold still.”

“No, I said get off-get the fuck off of me you creep!” Louis yelled as loud as he could, his throat protesting at the abuse. And his mind racing so fast, it was making his vision begin to blur as he looked up at the ceiling, hoping, praying that there was a way out of this.

Gasping loudly as the man suddenly bit down hard on his neck with a low moan. It felt like he was breaking the soft skin with every bite, drawing blood. “Stop, no don’t-” Louis’ words were choked off as another bite was made to his collarbone.

The strength he had was now starting to disappear, and he could feel his body giving up. But his voice wasn’t going to, unlike his muscles, so Louis took a deep breath in, trying to avoid the black spots that were making their way into his line of sight, which was now focused on the door over the mans shoulder.

“Zayn, Harry! Help, someone, Harr-” and then he had no more air. A sudden blow to the stomach completely knocked the wind out of him. As he curled in on himself, gasping. The man let go of his wrists and backed up letting Louis crumble to the floor in pain.

Kneeling down, the man gripped tightly at Louis’ chin and turned his head forcing him to make eye contact. “No one can hear you. I said to stop struggling, but you didn’t listen did you? So now you’re in trouble Tomlinson. Because yo-”

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

“Louis? L-Louis!”

“Get the fuck away from him now!”

And then the nightmare was over, the boys had heard him. He was still gasping for air but the man was no longer touching him, or even hovering over him. Liam had the him up against a wall like Louis had been, except he was holding him at arms length. A look of disgust and pure rage all over his face. Practically shaking as he held the mans shirt in a tight fist, probably trying to figure out if he could hit him and not get in trouble with management.

Niall was frozen in the door frame, like a deer in the headlights, stunned into silence.

Louis flinched as Harry slowly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, cradling him into a sitting position. “Don’t touch me. I-don’t.”

“He’s gone Lou, the bastards gone. I would never hurt you.” He knew Harry wouldn’t hurt him, so he didn’t push him away, just clung to Harry's front a little tighter as a fresh wave of tears hit him hard. The realization of what just happened catching up with him. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I won’t let go, we’re here. I’m here Lou.”

Zayn just crouched down to Louis, thumbing each salty drop that fell, away. A look of worry and controlled anger etched across his face. Not pity, which was what Louis really didn’t want.

The feeling of Harry’s fingers carding through the hair on the back of his head began to work as a type of sedative. Making his arms go limp, red wrists laying in his lap as Harry held him. Moving so Louis was in his lap, facing the corner of the room, and Zayn. Instead of the door and the man who attacked him.

But he could hear every profanity that Liam spat out, the heavy sounds of running coming down the hall announcing that their security was coming. He could feel every soft touch as Zayn took Louis’ injured wrists in his own hands and rubbed at them. Like he was trying to rub out the pain for Louis. His brow tight with concern as he ducked his head down and kissed softly at them. Like a kiss would make them feel better.

“Did he hurt you? Lou, where did he touch you?” Zayn's eyes began to roam up his arms, searching every inch of him as he shook with fear that was still coursing through his system. Turning to press his face into the crook of Harry’s neck, giving Zayn a silent answer to that question because he wasn’t sure he could get any words out right now.

“Christ, I’ll fucking kill him.” Zayn snapped as he shot up from where he was. One look at the blood that was beading around the purpling bite marks that were now burned into Louis’ fragile frame made him see red.

Harry just tightened his hold on Louis, then, though he couldn’t see what Zayn saw. But he was getting a pretty good description that made his stomach churn.

“You bit him? Get off me Paul, I want to make this sick arse holes face bleed just as bad. He’s bleeding, and shaken up and that’s on you ya prick. What’s wrong with you huh? Get some sort of sick rush from all of this? You do don’t you. Paul I said get off!”

“Zayn, hurting him won’t make a difference. The buildings security are here to escort him off the premises. We’re having him reported. Calm down. Harry, keep him in one piece. Niall, sit down and put your head between your knees before you throw up, Liam would you?”

“On it Paul.”

Harry picked Louis up a bit and turned back around once they were alone, Paul standing in front of the door to the room. Giving them some time to breathe while he sorted everything out.

Louis could see Niall sitting in a corner with his head between his knees like he’d been ordered to. Liam rubbing circles on his back while glancing from Louis, back to Niall, then to Zayn.

Everything had turned to shit and Louis was just relieved that they got to him in time. Zayn crouched back down to face him again, “Louis I need you to look at me.”

He could feel a soft fabric being dabbed at his neck, it made him hiss at the pain that shot through him. Each dab making his throat constrict and his knuckles turn white as he clawed at Harry's shirt. Turning from his hiding place in the warmth of Harrys hold to look at Zayn who was holding a handkerchief, splotched with blood.

“Don’t worry Harry, it’s still there I promise.”

Louis could feel Harry physically relax, all tension gone from his shoulders as he sighed. Almost like he’s been holding in a breath the whole time. Louis didn’t understand what Zayn meant by, “it’s still there.”

“W-what’s still-Hazz?” Louis couldn’t get much else out. His body was done, all the exertion turning into exhaustion. The adrenaline finally leaving him along with the shakes. While his heart rate started to thrum out even beats again. Making him feel sluggish, and somewhat back to himself though not entirely. He wouldn’t forget what just happened even if he tried to shut it out. It was seared into his memory and now it was something he would be forced to live with.

“You, Louis. I can see it all over Harry's face, he’s worried that we might’ve-that he might’ve lost you.” Zayn struggled to find a good answer, Louis could tell.

“There’s this-this light in your eyes Lou.” Harry's lips were at his ear, his voice was soft and careful, and extremely comforting. “I was worried that he took it from us. I’m so sorry we weren’t here sooner. I heard you yell my name, through the door. Saw you on the floor. And all I could think was, please be okay, please still be mine, still be you. I won’t lose you, I can’t lose you.” Harry kissed at Louis’ temple after that, whispering “I love you too much.” Low enough to where even Zayn who was so close to them, wouldn’t even be able to make out what Harry had just said.

“We can’t lose you,” Liam repeated, as he and Niall came to sit next to them. Surrounding him then, Niall reaching out to hold his hand. Squeezing it gently before letting go and hugging himself close to Liam. Like he needed his own comfort from the shock and confusion of all that he’d seen.

“You won’t lose me. He-he just, he didn’t break me. It takes more than that to break me, to hurt us. I’m not okay, but I think-I think I will be. Just, lock him up and we stick together yeah? No more single interviews, and we take care of each other.” His voice cracking a little, as he attempted to make light of what had happened. Even though it was too soon for things like that to be said. It’s just what he wanted, to joke and brush it off rather than dwell on something so painful.

Louis was enveloped in a group hug after they all nodded in agreement to what he’d just said. And that made him feel safe again, surrounded by three of his brothers, and Harry. His Harry. 

Who carried him all the way out of the building, blocking him from anyone's view. Who gently brushed at his fringe, letting Louis put his head in his lap and curl up in the back seat of their van.

And just before Louis lost consciousness, he reached up to grab at Harry's hand. Pulling it to his lips, Louis softly kissed Harry’s palm over a tiny letter L that he’d drawn on in pen earlier that day.

“Thank you for hearing me. I love you too much too.”


End file.
